“You said that last time.”
“If nothing else, I’m betting they spent today dealing with the body of their guy. They either buried his remains or had to collect his body and get it shipped home.”
“Any word from Spencer and Drago?”
“We’ve been in cell phone dead areas most of the day. I’ll call them when we get to the room.”
He was relieved Chas was talking again. The silence in the car had been almost total today, and it had been unnerving. Chas was usually the gregarious one who carried the majority of the conversation. But he’d barely spoken a word since that fateful declaration this morning.
Not that Gunner minded silence in general. Most of the guys he worked with were taciturn types, and SEALs ran most of their missions in complete silence. They became adept at communicating through looks, facial expressions, and subtle hand gestures.
But Chas was an expressive person and used his words to convey pretty much everything he felt or thought. Gunner appreciated knowing in general what was going on with Chas without having to try to figure it out.
They checked into a deluxe suite using one of the credit cards Drago had provided. It was set up not only to be easily trackable but to report back to Charles Favian whenever somebody else tracked its use. When the tangoes chasing them figured out they were here, Favian ought to be able to warn them that the thugs were inbound. In theory.
Now that they’d caught one of the bad guys, the game would be to stay one step—or ideally several steps—ahead of the hostiles and not engage with them again until he and Spencer and Drago were prepared to take them out for good. From here on out, they would be leading the bad guys into traps and not the other way around.
They hauled in all the baby gear, and Chas carried in the doll. When a woman asked to see Poppy 2.0 in the elevator, Chas murmured that she was asleep and had had a long day. Gunner traded amused looks with Chas as the woman got off at her floor and they continued up to the concierge level.
Gunner opened the suite’s door and held it for Chas.
“This is more like it,” Chas declared, standing in the center of the spacious living room and turning in a full circle.
A fire burned cheerily in the fireplace, and tall picture windows looked out upon a valley straight out of a picture postcard. White snow blanketed the slopes and weighed down the boughs of the fluffy pine trees. The narrow black ribbon of a running stream cut through the valley floor, and a herd of elk drank from it. The last light was just fading, and as they watched, the valley slipped into peaceful night.
Gunner had to admit, it was darned near perfect.
Chas exclaimed from the bathroom, “Oh my God! You have to come see this! There’s a giant hot tub in here.”
Gunner stepped into the doorway and spied Chas already running water to fill the huge tub. The fireplace turned out to be two-sided, and the hot tub stood next to its far side. Chas looked up, his entire face lit with joy. “Order up a bottle of wine, will you?”
“I don’t know anything about wine.”
Chas straightened thoughtfully. “Ask for a port. It’s a red dessert wine, but with some brandy added in. More kick than regular table wines. I think you’d like it.”
“Will you like it?”
“I love the stuff. I’m a cheap drunk on it, though.”
Gunner grinned. “I’ll order two bottles.”
Chas rolled his eyes, but at least he smiled a little. Profound relief flooded Gunner. He hated being at odds with Chas.
While they waited for the big tub to fill, he placed a call to Spencer. “Hey, it’s Gun. Any information forthcoming from our guest?”
“Oh yeah. Took waterboarding him once, but then he sang like a canary.”
“And what did he sing?”
Chas tugged on Gunner’s sleeve, doing charades to indicate he wanted to hear too. “I’m putting you on speaker phone so Chas can hear too,” he told Spencer.
“I’m doing the same. Drago’s on with me.”
“Great. We’re all here, so tell us what you learned,” Gunner said impatiently.
“Our prisoner works for the Oshiro gang.” Spencer paused for a moment. “But he had an interesting tale to tell.”
Drago picked up the narrative. “Apparently the Oshiro gang is dealing with some internal politics. The old Oshiro leadership wants to sit pat on its drug smuggling in the United States. But a group of younger Oshiro lieutenants wants to go international. They think there’s more money to be made if they control both ends of the smuggling chain from Asia to North America.”
Chas asked, “What does that have to do with Poppy?”
“According to our prisoner, the splinter group of pro-expansion Oshiro guys kidnapped Poppy. Our guy thinks it was some sort of show of force to intimidate the Tanaka gang.”
“Do they want ransom for her?” Chas asked.
Spencer answered, “Our prisoner didn’t know. He thinks the Oshiro guys who took Poppy want something else from Kamiko’s grandfather, Yuzio Tanaka. He’s the head of his clan. We think it’s possible they’re trying to get control of a port currently controlled by the Tanaka clan.”
Drago took over. “Charles Favian has been digging around. He talked with the folks over at the CIA’s Asia desk, and they say Yuzio Tanaka and his son, Kenji, have had a serious falling out and aren’t on speaking terms.”
Gunner frowned. “Meaning what? The Oshiros aren’t going to get what they want from kidnapping Poppy because Grandpa is pissed off at Poppy’s daddy?”
“Potentially,” Drago answered grimly.
Chas frowned at Gunner. “What does that mean?”
Gunner answered, “It means they’ll need to dispose of Poppy, assuming they can get ahold of her again. They can’t just give her back when they can’t strongarm Grandpa into doing what they want.”
Spencer said, “I think we have to proceed on the working theory that once these guys figure out the old man isn’t going to bend, they will ultimately kill Poppy.”
“She’s a baby!” Chas exclaimed in a combination of horror and dismay.
Drago replied, “She’s a Tanaka. Which means she’s smack-dab in the middle of this feud, whether she deserves it or not.”
“Who doesn’t love their own grandkid?” Chas demanded indignantly.
Gunner heard the shrug in Drago’s voice. “Ol’ Yuzio may not believe in giving in to extortion, even if Poppy is his own blood. It may not be about love. It may be purely about the principle of the thing.”
Spencer added, “J. Paul Getty refused to pay ransom for his grandson’s return after a kidnapping. He said he had a bunch of other grandkids, and if he gave in on one of them, they all would be in terrible danger.”
“Didn’t Getty end up coughing up a couple million bucks for the kid?”
Spencer snorted. “Only after the grandson’s ear was sent to a newspaper.”
“That’s cold, man,” Gunner commented.
“There’s a wrinkle to all of this,” Spencer said grimly.
“Which is?” Gunner asked when Spencer didn’t continue right away.
“Kenji Tanaka told me he got a ransom demand five days ago, and his people thought it came from the Oshiro gang. But other Oshiros had already contacted Kenji’s father with different demands. Sounds to me like the two branches of the Oshiro gang are working at cross purposes with each other. And possibly, they each have different plans for Poppy.”